For Fear of Rejection
by HarryPotterRulesMyLife
Summary: Hermione has been taunting Harry's dreams for the longest time. When the opportunity arises to act on his feelings, even Hermione's voiced rejections won't stop him. He'll do anything to have her. Rape warning, reviews highly appreciated!


**For Fear of Rejection **

In his dream, Hermione gave a final lick to his cock before coming herself, moaning his name.

Harry pulled up his shorts and pants, sitting up in his bed. His recent dreams about Hermione have been torturing him since he had returned to Privet Drive for the summer. He had resolved himself to simply wanking off in bed to dreams of her, but it was becoming far more difficult to satiate himself doing only that.

He sat in bed, arms crossed behind his neck, and sighed. Only four more days until he was able to visit Ron, four more days until he could see Hermione again. He knew that, upon seeing her, he wouldn't be able to control himself. He'd simply tell Hermione how he felt, and hope that she would reciprocate. Harry didn't know what he'd do if she didn't feel the same. He didn't like to think that way.

The simple thought of Hermione lying beneath him, naked, made him hard once more. He pulled out his aching cock and wrapped his hand around it, the cold skin making him moan. Hermione swam in his mind, naked, aching for his touch. He came then, he didn't even have to jerk anymore. He pulled up his covers and went to lie down, still thinking of Hermione.

Ginny was eyeing him again. She wasn't even subtle anymore, she practically stuck her hand down her panties right at the dinner table. Harry wasn't interested. She looked too much like his dead mum, and dating his mate's younger sister seemed far too perverted and creepy.

Hermione was chatting with her though, so Harry couldn't help but look Ginny's way. She kept trying to catch his eye, flipping back her hair, pressing up her breasts, lifting her skirt to show a little thigh. She was attractive enough, and certainly Harry's equal in many ways, but he wanted Hermione, only Hermione.

Hermione finally looked at him, and Harry's heart stopped. He began to sweat, he was sure he felt himself blushing. She smiled brightly and looked away, turning to chat with Ron.

Harry went red. He didn't want to admit it to anyone, but he was extremely jealous of Ron. He knew that Ron wanted Hermione too, but, and only in his mind, Harry knew he had the better chance. All thoughts of modesty went out the door when Hermione was concerned. Harry was the Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One! Who wouldn't pick Harry? Ron turned to Harry and winked, antagonizing Harry even further.

Arthur was trying to talk to Harry about rubber ducks again, but all Harry could think about was talking to Hermione. She finally turned to him again, breasts prominent, eyelashes batting.

"Hi Harry." she smiled. She brushed back a piece of bushy brown hair.

"How was your summer?"

"It was okay." Harry said casually, taking a jab at his potato. Hermione smiled again, licking her lips.

"That's nice." she said. "My summer was nice, too. I went to California with my Mum and Dad, went to Hollywood. It was really crowded, but fun."

"Cool." said Harry nonchalantly. "Did you do all your school work?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course." she replied. "I even did extra! I wrote about the Salem Witch Massacres and even a little bit about Wicca culture. It was very fascinating…"

Harry started to drown her out, preferring to look, instead of listen. She looked so beautiful when she was animated about something. Her cheeks flushed, eyes brightened, she even sat straighter. It was a remarkable transformation.

"Hermione?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Uh, yeah?" she asked, flustered.

"Can I talk to you alone, later? In private?" he asked, nervous.

"Yeah, sure." she said, eyebrows raised. "Where?"

"Er, the garden. Come alone." he remarked, mysteriously. Harry picked his plate up and left the table, heart thumping. He left the kitchen and walked to the garden, hoping the peace would calm his thumping heart and sweating palms. It was less than an hour later when Hermione appeared, wearing a tight pink sweatshirt and tight gray pants. Perhaps it was just Harry's thoughts, but she seemed to be dressing far more provocatively than usual.

She sat beside Harry and rubbed her hands on her pants nervously. "Well. I'm here." she said.

She looked over to him, blinking rapidly.

"Hermione." Harry started. "I want you to know something. I really like you." he started slowly. "Really really. Hermione?" he looked over to her. She was looking away, towards the setting sun. She turned to face him, eyes glistening with tears.

"Hermione…I love you." he stated plainly.

"Oh Harry." she whispered. Rejection. Harry had anticipated this, but he had hoped so desperately for the opposite.

"Ron?" he asked softly, the malice in his voice disguised by disappointment.

"Yes." she whispered tearfully. "I'm sorry! I like you, Harry. But you're like a brother, a best friend."

Ouch. That hurt more than if she had just told him no. But now? He was a brother. Any feelings now are just familial, not romantic. Whatever, Harry would take what he wanted.

"I see." he stated. "That's unfortunate, because I don't care." he snapped toward her so quickly she wasn't able to react in time. Harry pushed her to the floor and sat on top of her, straddling her. He held her hands tightly to the ground, his knee pressed to her groin. She cried out in pain and struggled against him, too weak to push him off.

"I said I LOVE you Hermione. And you want RON?" he screamed, his face twisted into a demented mask. "Why RON! You could have ME!" he pressed harder. She screamed, thrashing her head about in pain. Harry grabbed his wand quickly from his pocket. Hermione was quickly tied up, unable to move, let alone reject him. He ripped the sweater from her chest, revealing her plain cotton bra.

"So simple." he whispered. He forced her knees up and open, opening her pussy to him. He slashed a hold in the groin of her pants, large enough to push his hand through. Feeling agitated with the small space provided, he simply ripped her pants off as well. She lay before him, almost completely naked and frightened.

"Harry?" she cried. "Why?"

"Because I want you." Harry said. He tugged her bra down, tightly squeezing one of her breasts. She whimpered in pain, trying desperately to pull off her restraints. She panted heavily, breasts heaving, thighs quivering.

Harry groaned lustfully, forced her panties to once side and forcefully stuck three fingers inside of her. She cried out. Harry forced a hand over her mouth to stifle her. He cast a silencing charm over their immediate area, and slapped her cheek for good measure.

She cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry pulled his pants down to his ankles, forced down his shorts, and pulled out his fingers. Without warning, he shoved himself into her. She shrieked in pain, a very small puddle of blood forming where they met. Harry moaned with pleasure, his fantasies finally coming true. He grabbed her waist tightly and again and again, forced himself into her.

Her pussy contacted tightly around his dick, and he groaned. The moans she made, however involuntary, drove him crazy. He buried himself deep within her, balls deep, and thrust in harder and faster with each penetration. She has resigned herself to crying softly, simply allowing Harry to finish, rather than trying to fight him off.

Harry came inside of her, groaning her name. He pulled out of her, wiped his limp cock inside of her thigh and pulled up his shorts. He tugged up his pants and stood above Hermione.

"You should've just said you loved me." he whispered. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her.

"Obliviate."

Her eyes crossed, legs relaxed, chest stopped heaving. He undid her restraints and she lay flat on the grass. She was no longer crying, no longer fighting. She was perfectly at peace. Harry pulled up her bra, panties and simply magicked a pair of pants for her. She seemed like she was sleeping, like no harm had ever come to her.

Her memory of the last hour was completely wiped, she'd never know what Harry had done to her, and Harry would never tell.

"Hi Harry!" she shouted brightly. Hermione waved at him happily.

"How was your summer?"

**Yeah…so I never write rape stories, let alone with my OTP! I love Harry/Hermione, and it was pure boredom and lack of an internet connection that made me write this! I rather like it, it's a bit morbid though. But I believe that any rape fic would have to be a bit morbid, don't you? I'd love to read some reviews! **


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